


Son of Sith

by stuffilikeiwrite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark!Ahsoka, Dark!Luke, Gen, Inquisitor!Ahsoka, Suited Vader is the only Vader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24223513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffilikeiwrite/pseuds/stuffilikeiwrite
Summary: Luke huffed as all the air was forced out of his lungs; a graceful but rough heel kick aiming a perfect jab right into his mid torso. Augmented by the Force, it sent him flying until he ended up tumbling across the sleek auburn stone floors of the training hall. He skidded to a clumsy halt; bare forearms rubbed raw and sore from the neatly polished finish. He gasped for breath; instinctively reaching for the red saber that ought to be strapped to his belt while he pulled himself up to his knees.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69





	Son of Sith

Luke huffed as all the air was forced out of his lungs; a graceful but rough heel kick aiming a perfect jab right into his mid torso. Augmented by the Force, it sent him flying until he ended up tumbling across the sleek auburn stone floors of the training hall. He skidded to a clumsy halt; bare forearms rubbed raw and sore from the neatly polished finish. He gasped for breath; instinctively reaching for the red saber that ought to be strapped to his belt while he pulled himself up to his knees. 

Only to find it _wasn't there_ ; and no amount of blind fumbling would reveal the weapon he was so desperately searching for. Had he dropped it? Before he had a chance to relocate the missing saber; another sharp kick to the side of his waist had him rolling over onto his back, wincing and grunting in pain.

"You disappoint me, _Skyguy_. Me and your father," said his adversary; her mocking tone sharp as glass.

“Don’t call me that,” Luke scoffed in a choked voice, narrowing his blue eyes at the taunt - he’d never been fond of that particular nickname.

He blinked; head spinning as he attempted to see straight. Vision blurred by sweat and exhaustion; clumps of matted sandy blonde hair falling into his field of view. He had known he'd be training intensely to perfect his powers with the Dark Side; he'd just never known that his teacher would be so ruthless. When Father had found him, he’d assumed he would be the one to train him. He’d been sorely wrong.

Instead, the Master that now stood over him was a female Togruta. Her muscular arms folded over her chest; her stern face clearly displeased and disappointed by the easy defeat. Her red dual blades turned off and clipped to her sides. Her magnificent montrals sticking out like a twin pair of horns making a crude crown atop her head; the lekku twitching faintly where they rested over her tense shoulders. 

Her sickly yellow ember eyes glowing in the dim light of the vast cavern of the space surrounding them. Half of the rooms of Father’s castle lay underground; carved into the natural cave system of Mustafar's constantly reshaped lavascape. It didn't help that the heat - and _stench_ \- of molten rock was constantly perforating the atmosphere.

“Know your place,” she reprimanded; in the same sharp tone as previously - but with a venomous bite to it.

Luke flinched.

"I'm sorry. I can do better," he finally gulped when he caught his breath enough to find his voice; struggling to sit up straight as he wiped a thin trail of blood off the corner of his lips.

His entire abdomen was pulsing with a sore, mellow pain. He pressed one palm against the spot he'd been hit initially; rubbing in slow circles to soothe. Watched as Master rolled her eyes dramatically. She’d always found his sensitivity to physical injury _pathetic_.

"You better deliver on that promise, _Skyguy_. You keep whining about how you wish to train with your father. If you can't even best me, how do you expect to stand a chance against his prowess?" she said - it stung to hear it, but her words were _true_.

"I'll train _harder_. I can do it," Luke pressed; tone slightly high pitched with disappointment and defeat.

Rare was the time Father had any time for him. Of course, being the Emperor's right hand would see to making him a busy man. But still. Luke lowered his gaze in shame; watching out of the corner of his eye as Master called on the Force and his saber came flying through the air like a pet to its owner. He should have been the one to pull that move. It was an intentional deprecation.

"You need to _focus_. No amount of hard training can keep your head on straight if you don't learn to focus properly."

“I _will_ , just give me some time.”

“You’ve had all the time in the world, and you’re still stuck in the same spot. You need to start drawing upon your emotions, you keep holding back. It serves you no good, except for getting you killed faster.”

Master carelessly tossed Luke’s saber in the air a couple of times, as a cruel taunt. She appeared to be contemplating, before stopping to give him a predatory smirk.

"You are aware your father is supposed to regard your progress, aren't you?" she said; and Luke watched as she turned her head towards the hydraulic doorway. “As a matter of fact, he disclosed to me that _today_ would be the ideal opportunity.”

Luke felt his heart sink; he'd been too distracted by the combat to even notice the familiar icy presence creeping nearer. Yet now, as the automatic doors whooshed open; he shuddered. Skin prickling; the hairs at the back of his neck standing on end. 

Master was strong with the Dark Side; but it was _nothing_ compared to Father. As he strode through the doorway; bending slightly to accommodate his height while entering, the sinister icy tendrils of the Dark were already discernible from his aura. Like invisible tentacles, prodding and cutting through their surroundings like freezing, razor sharp needles. Piercing anything that stood in their way. Luke fought back the urge to wrap his bare arms around himself; to shield himself from the _frigid cold_.

Still, Father walked right up to them. Back straight and confident, helmeted head held high with pride. Shoulders broad, cape black as tar trailing behind his large form. The skull-esque face plate harsh and emotionless as always; the tinted lenses reminiscent of a bug's eyes. Void, null of expression. Luke staggered as he pulled himself up onto his feet; grimacing at the sharp burn in his side and his ribs.

"Father," he said; bowing his head out equal amounts of awe and courtesy.

Master stepped aside; silently mirroring the small bow of acknowledgement. She stood still as a statue; a coy, amused sneer playing at the corner of her lips. Sharpened white teeth peering out.

"My son. I was assured that you were to be making progress in your training. Still, I find you bereft of your weapon and pitifully defeated."

Luke winced; shoulders coming up as he took in Father's disapproval. It always hurt; always made him feel like a failure. He could feel it through their bond; the anger and displeasure seeping from Father’s overpowering Force signature. _Stabbing_ into his psyche, as if intent on drawing as much humiliation out of his son as possible. 

It was _working_.

"Forgive me, father. I’ve disappointed you," Luke mumbled in a sheepish voice; folding his hands over his hips, legs wobbling just a tad beneath his weight.

" _Indeed_. You wish to be my apprentice, but you have a long way yet to go. The Grand Inquisitor is correct in her judgment. If you cannot best her skills, you have not yet honed the power necessary to excel as _my_ pupil. You need to continue your current training, and master it before you can request for me to take time out of my schedule on your behalf."

Father was _right_. 

Still, Luke scowled. He'd thought he was doing well in predicting Master's movements, up until the last moment. He was getting faster, and he was getting better at blocking her assault. He _was_ getting better at reading her body language, her saber technique. But he was sloppy, and easily disoriented.

"I sense that you are _displeased_ with my verdict. Do you wish to speak up and voice your opinion?"

Father's booming baritone voice - amplified through the vocoder - seemed to bounce off the walls like a sinister echo; like a thousand demonic whispers. Master quirked an eyebrow at him, her curious gaze shifting between father and son a couple of times. Luke regretted thinking it, but he couldn't back down now. Father expected him to speak up, or else he would not have addressed it.

"I... I _am_ getting better. Master tells me I need to focus, but I am faster, and I have learnt to better foresee her actions. I have evolved, and I’m sure I can live up to your expectations.” He paused. “I am _not_ a failure."

"You are not. But you are not yet a success, _either_. Son, you need to know your place and you will not receive my praise until you have mastered your training."

“But I can be a success! Just let me--”

“Patience,” Father cut him off mid sentence, tone demanding; almost threatening. “Know your place. However, I find there is value in your persistence. That is to be encouraged.”

Luke bit back a retort; and if Father could sense it, he didn't pry or scold. Instead, he turned his masked head slightly towards Master; pointing one finger at her. Confusion coloured the boy’s expression; and he regarded with inquisitiveness the wry look in Master’s golden eyes.

"Grand Inquisitor.”

“Yes, Lord Vader.” 

“I shall be most pleased to see you resume your schedule. I will be watching intently."

Father stepped back, striding swiftly over to the corner of the training hall. His breathing apparatus an ominous reminder of his presence, even while mostly out of sight in the heavy shadows. 

It was only then that Luke realized Father intended to watch him fight. He felt a flush colour his cheeks; the fear and insecurity of failing in front of him _mortifying_. Still, as Master tossed him his saber and he caught it mid air; he tried to brace himself. Placed his feet wide apart, for a steady stance. Watched Master switch on her blades; twirling them a couple of times as an intimidation tactic.

Then, she charged.

Luke parried and blocked the first crimson saber, before spinning out of the way for the second. He crouched; the smell of singed blonde hair as one blade cut through the air mere inches above his head pricking his nostrils. The sound of Father's respirator loud in his ears; _stifling_ every other noise. He couldn't hear the squeak of their boots sliding against the floors. Couldn't hear the steady hum and crackle of their weapons. Couldn't hear his own heavy breathing, or the hurried hammering of his own pulse as his heart pounded frantically against his rib-cage.

In the split of a second, Master was on him again. She was always light on her feet. Lithe, agile, quick and cunning. Luke _knew_ Father had trained her to be clever, to take advantage of her adversaries' weaknesses - and their strengths. He had seen her battle and defeat Force wielders three times her size; out of sheer strategy and power of will. Narrowing his eyes; Luke ducked to the side to avoid another swing; blocking the second saber aimed his way by drawing upon the Force to shove Master back.

She responded by making a graceful twirl; landing on her toes before flying back at him. Bouncing; as if she weighed nothing, defying gravity. He blocked her; stumbling a couple of steps backwards but holding his ground.

Suddenly, the anger was welled up inside. Red hot, burning like a crackling flame - blazing like a firestorm. He knew Master wished to humiliate him before Father, wished to prove both Father and herself right. It fueled his rage; and he channeled it the way he was _supposed_ to. Let it flow through his limbs; into his core. Surging through his veins with each heartbeat. He felt brighter; clear headed. Sharp minded. His sight amplified; focused. As Master came back around, spinning through the air; he blocked both her sabers with his. 

This time, Luke _didn’t_ falter. 

Master aimed her heel at his already sore side, digging it in; but he hardly felt it. It was as if his body wasn't his own, but a vessel. As if he was standing outside himself. Instead; his only reaction was a frustrated grunt and a staggering step backwards before he grabbed her ankle tight with his free hand. His mechanical hand - the one Father had sliced off without remorse, to teach him the value of loss and preservation. Using the Force as his aid, Luke used his hold on her to toss her back. A shock wave shooting through him; the power of the Force overwhelming and exciting as it rolled off of him.

She hit the floor on her side, shoulder first; but quickly turned the tumble into a graceful somersault, landing on her feet. Yet, the white markings of her brows were raised in surprise; she seemed almost stunned by sudden display of dexterity. It was the first time Luke had managed to stay standing; and to _strike back_. 

Still, as the high of the moment wore off; Luke flinched at the mulling ache in his side returning full throttle. He expected Master to attack once more, now that he’d let his guard down and was vulnerable again; expected her to knock him off his feet and officially defeat him in front of Father.

Instead, she stood down. Turning her sabers off, and clipping them to her belt again. She stood up straight; glancing in Father's direction and giving him a curt nod. Her golden eyes gleaming.

" _Impressive_."

Father's voice was too loud where it spoke up from the shadows. Luke raised his head; wiped his sweaty forehead with his shirt as Father took a couple of long steps towards them. Now he had his arms folded. The reflection of the far off glow of lava streams outside the palace walls illuminating his mask in an eerie, insidious fashion. It almost appeared to be grinning; a grim, chilling trickery of the light.

"Perhaps, there is still hope for you, my son. You must learn to draw more frequently upon the Dark Side, if you wish to face me as an adversary and tutor. This is but your first step, but it holds formidable promise."

Father paused, as if he was contemplating something. He tilted his domed head barely notably to the side; and Luke felt the weight of the older man’s gaze upon him. Heavy, like a burden, or a sodden weight. Almost too hard to bear. The needles of the Dark Side piercing through his flesh; _his very bones_.

“However, I believe there are things that your master cannot adequately teach you. Perhaps, it is time I teach you to tap further into your anger. Meditation shall be your guide. The potential is there, now you need hone your natural talent into perfection. I shall take it upon myself to instruct your further advance.”

Luke's eyes widened; and he had to fight back the urge to gape, hope blossoming within his chest. This was the closest thing to a true _compliment_ his Father had offered, his eyes darting off to Master's face and her expression hinted at thinly veiled proud. Pride in the face of her own accomplishments no doubt; but it reaffirmed Luke’s assumptions.

Luke knew Master only ever wished to please Father, much the same as he himself did. He knew they had long been master and apprentice, even before they both found strength with the Dark Side. Had peered into the records when on his own; had studied their profiles from the days of the Jedi Order - something he would never reveal to them. 

Still, they shared a strong bond, not commonly found in Sith and their pupils. Luke envied the favour Master had with Father, wished to one day overthrow her and take her place by his side. Even though another part of him wanted to feel guilt for merely thinking the thought. But it was expected, Father had explained long ago. It was the custom; there were to be but two Sith. Which was why the Emperor must not know of his training; or their _scheme_. Still, for now, Luke was humbled to be schooled by Father's most esteemed Inquisitor. It was enough.

"Thank you, Father," he finally managed to stutter out, turning his own saber off so as not to awkwardly stand there with his weapon still in hand.

"Indeed. Now, I wish for the both of you to join me, for I have received valuable information regarding the Rebellion. Grand Admiral Thrawn is already in the midst of engaging their hopeless ground forces, and I would like to send you both to his aid - and _mine_. But we shall discuss this further in his company."

Luke swallowed hard; a nervousness settling like a lump at the base of his throat. It would be his first actual task off world. His first mission, alongside Master of course, but Father had never before requested he fight alongside the troops.

" _Come_."

"As you wish, milord," said Master; head held low in submission as she followed behind while Father had already begun to make his way towards the single exit-way; only beckoning them with one gloved finger.

Luke nodded silently; scurrying rather unceremoniously behind them to catch up once his feet decided to cooperate. Still, as he walked at a quick pace through the corridors of pristine black durasteel and auburn rock formations; he felt proud. He must have been making progress, for Father to think him skilled enough to join the ground forces on the battlefield. It was the break he'd been _waiting for_ , for the last year and a half.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanna thank @thebixo over at tumblr for inspiring me to write this fic, and helping me come up with this AU oneshot.
> 
> Also, I hope you enjoy my take on dark!Ahsoka as the Grand Inquisitor, training a 16 year old _ish_ Luke to become Vader’s new Sith apprentice and overthrow the Emperor. 
> 
> Enjoy.


End file.
